


The Word of Your Body

by elder_macaroni



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Body Swap AU, M/M, Modern Era, ftm racetrack bc i love him, spot is slightly ooc but hes also in shock, theyre bffs but maybe theyll become more?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-25 21:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13843584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elder_macaroni/pseuds/elder_macaroni
Summary: Racetrack Higgins finally looked down at himself and realized - he wasn’t just in Spot’s apartment. He was in Spot’s body, too.





	1. Waking Up

**Author's Note:**

> im in love with these two and ive had this idea for a while so! here we are!
> 
> yall can pry trans boy race from my cold dead hands i love him
> 
> also!! for the next chapter should I have spot's recollection of the morning or just continue from where this chapter left off but in spot's POV? please comment :)))

From the second he woke up, Racer knew something was off. His walls seemed off color, and his legs felt heavier than normal. As his vision began to focus, he shot upright and gasped, earning himself a headrush in the process. He was in Spot’s room, with no recollection of getting there and no Spot to be found. He thought back, trying desperately to remember anything from the night prior, but it was a futile attempt. He flopped back down on the bed in a huff, deciding to lay in bed for a while before getting up to look for his missing friend. But as he braced himself for the discomfort of laying down on his chest, he noticed that his normally feminine chest was gone, and replaced by pecs. Mouth wide open and jaw dropped, Racetrack Higgins finally looked down at himself and realized - he wasn’t just in Spot’s apartment. He was in Spot’s body, too.

“Shit, shit, fuck, what the fuck? What did I do last night?”

With each word, Race could feel himself edging closer to a panic attack. He willed himself to calm down, to breathe, but everything spun until the world became a blur of short gasps and tears. He remained like this until he was jolted out of his nightmarish state by the sound of his - Spot’s - phone ringing. Hands shaking, he reached over to the nightstand and looked at the caller I.D.

_Racetrack Higgins (Asshole)_

Normally an affectionate smile would have been cracked at his contact name in his friend’s phone, but it wasn’t a normal day and Race was feeling anything but affectionate. He picked up the phone and answered in a gruff voice, one that shouldn’t belong to him. Spot’s voice.

“Racetrack. What. The. Fuck. Why am I you?”

His own voice crackled from the other side of the line, sounding harsh and unsure with Spot’s words. He tried to respond nonchalantly, but the previous panic was evident in his voice.

“I honestly have no idea, Spot. I can’t even remember what happened last night.”

“Neither can I,” Spot responded, the shrug evident in his voice. There was silence for a second before he continued. “Alright, well, I’m coming over. I’ll call a cab and don’t worry, I’ll pay you back,” he provided, sensing Race’s incoming refusal upon realizing Spot would be using his wallet.

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few.” And the click that came from the phone signalled the call’s end.

He got out of bed finally, not used to walking with legs that weren’t his own. After stumbling for a few seconds, Race got the hang of it and walked to the bathroom, eager to look remotely presentable. But there it was that he had the shocking realization that he had to piss.

Sure, it would have been fine if Race himself had a dick, but he was used to different machinery. And in no way was he ready to look at Spot’s genitalia without his friend’s explicit consent. But on the other hand, if he didn’t pee soon, he was gonna explode.

Sighing, he made his way over to the toilet and covered his eyes with one hand, praying to the gods that his aim was okay even though he was blind.

Miraculously, he managed to get everything where it was supposed to go without a hitch. Nice. Rejuvenated with a new sense of pride and purpose, Racetrack moved to the sink and washed his hands and face. Afterwards, he strolled through the apartment to the kitchen, and was trying to figure out the coffee pot when he heard a knock on the door.

Overjoyed that Spot was finally there as a reminder that he was (hopefully) sane, Race flung open the door and looked up at… himself. It was an understatement to describe the situation as weird. They both stood there awkwardly, until Spot spoke up.

“Man, it’s fucking weird to look down at someone.” And Race burst out laughing.

So did Spot, sparking a fit from both of the boys that was half relief, and half actual laughter. When it eventually died down, Spot hiccupped and wiped his eyes, looking down at Race with a more serious gleam in his now blue eyes. “But we have to fix this. No offense of course, but I want my body back.”

“None taken. Do you know how hard it is to pee with your eyes closed? I didn’t wanna invade your privacy but that was a goddamn Olympic Sport.”

At this, Spot’s cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. His eyes found an interesting place on the ground to rest on as he mumbled, “Try being a guy who’s never had a period before. How the fuck do you use a tampon?”

“Oh, shit.”


	2. Spotting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He came face to face with someone who wasn’t Spot Conlon. More specifically, he locked eyes with a certain Racetrack Higgins, who was staring back at him through the glass of the mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello I'm back! This chapter is basically just a recap of Spot's morning, but from now on if I switch POVs, I'm not gonna retell a section I've already covered. I just figured it'd be good to show Spot's reaction too :)
> 
> also warning it deals with periods but its not too graphic dw! also i hope yall liked the pun in the chapters title AYO

The mornings were usually a groggy time for Spot, but when a shrill alarm that he didn’t recognize jolted him from his sleep, he was fully awake in record time. Sitting up in bed and ignoring the slight panic welling up in his chest, he realized he was in Race’s bedroom. With a sigh, Spot began to lay back down, content with realizing he was safe in his friend’s apartment - only to realize said friend wasn’t there. Cautiously, he sat back up and began to move towards the door, until a sharp pain in his lower abdomen forced him to stop and double over, breathing heavily. He stumbled into the bathroom, fighting the urge to puke, where he came face to face with someone who wasn’t Spot Conlon. More specifically, he locked eyes with a certain Racetrack Higgins, who was staring back at him through the glass.

 

“No fucking way. This cannot be happening.”

 

Spot splashed his face with water, willing the blonde curls and blue eyes to vanish, but to no avail. He was planning on punching his fist through the fucking glass just to try and wake up from the nightmare he was in, until bile rose in his throat and he hunched over the toilet, gagging. He fought back tears as his throat began to sting, remaining in his curled up position until realization struck. 

 

Race had a uterus, and wasn’t on testosterone yet. Meaning he had a period once per month. Meaning Spot may or may not be experiencing that time of the month. Dread filled his stomach and he slowly took off Race’s pants, trying his hardest not to see anything, and pressed a wad of toilet paper in between his legs.

 

It came back bloody.

 

Spot groaned loudly, placing his head in his hands. Not only had he just indirectly touched his friend’s  _ fucking vagina _ , he now had to figure out tampons. Race had once told him that pads were too bulky for his liking; they felt like diapers. So of course he wouldn’t have any. Reaching over to investigate the cabinets, Spot quickly found a box labelled “tampons” and picked it up, drawing one out and ripping open the plastic.

 

“What in the everloving fuck is this?” He turned the cotton over in his hands, trying to figure out how exactly it worked. He studied it for a long moment, before recognizing the familiar tingle in his thighs that signaled his legs were falling asleep. With a grunt and a quick “here goes nothing”, Spot attempted to put the tampon in. And he was pretty damn proud of himself until he stood up and began to walk. The discomfort in between his legs pushed him over the edge.

 

Finally unable to take it, Spot washed his hands and stormed out of the bathroom, grabbing Race’s phone and clicking on  _ Spot Colon _ . He suppressed a snort at the offensive nickname and quickly called his own number, praying that the other boy was awake. And thank the gods he was. 

 

“Hello? Spot?”

 

“Racetrack. What. The. Fuck. Why am I you?” he growled out as a response. The harsh tone didn’t suit Race’s usually perky voice, but Spot elected to ignore that and waited instead for a response.

 

“I honestly have no idea, Spot. I can’t even remember what happened last night.”

 

He paused for a second, hearing the faded panic in Race’s tone. Spot mentally reprimanded himself, angry for not considering how Race was taking it. He tried to soften his tone with a shrug, responding “neither can I.” He paused, thinking of what to do. “Alright, well, I’m coming over. I’ll call a cab and don’t worry, I’ll pay you back.”

 

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few,” was the only thing Race said before the line went dead. True to his word, Spot called a cab immediately, only pausing to run a comb through his hair, grab a clean sweatshirt, and struggle to put on Race’s binder. He rushed into the cab as soon as it came, barking his address and telling the driver to book it. When they arrived, he forked over the cash, making a mental note of how much he owed Race, and bolted to the front door. His knocks were soon answered by none other than himself.

 

And holy shit was he short. Noting this, and the tension in the air, Spot provided “man, it’s fucking weird to look down at someone,” as a greeting. And then Race was doubled over in laughter, the sound feeling out of place tumbling off of Spot’s lips. But Spot joined in, giggling with Race’s voice, until his hiccups subsided and he focused them both back on the matter at hand. 

 

“But we have to fix this. No offense of course, but I want my body back.”   
  


Race snorted again in obvious agreement. “None taken. Do you know how hard it is to pee with your eyes closed? I didn’t wanna invade your privacy but that was a goddamn Olympic Sport.”

 

Spot felt his face unwillingly flush as he looked down. Damn Racer and his stupid lack of control over blushing. Damn his own body for having to piss at the worst time.

 

“Try being a guy who’s never had a period before. How the fuck do you use a tampon?”

 

At this, Race’s eye widened. “Oh, shit.”

 

Oh, shit indeed.


End file.
